In Order to Survive
by knightshade
Summary: One of the Q Continuum's pastimes causes nothing but trouble for the Enterprise command crew. Updated with information about the ending.


Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek:TNG or any of its characters. Also, the idea for the game is based on Survivor, which I also don't own. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story is based on a challenge to cross a science fiction show with a reality show. Survivor is the intended reality show, but I didn't follow the exact set up of the show, only the general idea. This story is rated PG.  
  
If you are looking for the updated note, it is at the end of the story. Thanks.  
  
Many thanks to my beautiful and talented beta readers Cyberkat and Tomy.  
  
  
  
In Order To Survive  
  
Jean-Luc Picard heard footsteps behind him. He knew it had to be Data, but in his tired, hungry state, he startled anyway. It was amazing what a week of deprivation could do to the nerves.  
  
Data was striding smoothly towards them. He skirted the carefully tended campfire and nodded to the rest of the crew, who were sitting against a fallen girder, warming themselves by the flames.  
  
"Captain, Q has asked me to bring you this," he said, apologetically handing Picard a scroll of parchment paper. Data had been whisked away from the Enterprise with the rest of the command crew, but Q didn't want him participating in the game - he had too big of an advantage in not needing food, water, or sleep.  
  
Picard unraveled the scroll and shook his head in frustration.  
  
"This challenge will test your mind,  
  
And your ability to recall,  
  
In reading comprehension,  
  
The Klingon doesn't stand a chance at all."  
  
Picard felt his anger bubble up and threaten to overwhelm his self-control. He had had it with Q's self-indulgent posturing. "Data, you tell Q. . . No. Never mind. Q," Picard yelled, tipping his head back and aiming the sound at nothing in particular. "I demand to speak to you directly. This is unacceptable. I will not use Data as a go between."  
  
For a moment, there was silence, and then Q, dressed in a Starfleet command officer's uniform, appeared directly in front of Picard. "You're hardly in a position to make demands, Picard. What is it now?"  
  
"I want to know the meaning of this. Why are we being held here against our will to play a stupid game? Why are we being forced to jump through your reckless hoops?"  
  
Q rolled his eyes. "Never were the patient type, were you Picard? You might want to hold back your temper - it might cost you your ship."  
  
Picard paused and brought his anger under control, it was getting harder and harder to do given his all-around discomfort. "Why?" he asked again.  
  
"Oh, if you must know," Q said, in the perfect tone of martyrdom, "this is a game the Continuum plays once every couple of millennium. We have to keep ourselves occupied, you know. Life can get a little dull when you're immortal."  
  
"So you go around torturing innocent people for your entertainment?" Picard's frustration was percolating again.  
  
"I'd hardly call you innocent," Q jibed. "We like to see how different peoples will react under straining conditions. It's really quite interesting how some species will just turn on each other." Q's smile was serpentine.  
  
"How can we trust that you're playing fair? How do we know that you've really returned Troi and LaForge to the Enterprise?" Dr. Crusher asked from her perch on the fallen I-beam.  
  
"You're just going to have to keep playing to find out, aren't you?" Q was relishing his role as lord and tyrant.  
  
"If they are harmed . . ." Worf started.  
  
"If they're harmed, what? I admire your bravado, Klingon, but omnipotence is the ultimate weapon. You can't beat me, you know."  
  
Worf growled deeply in the back of his throat. "Someday, there will be a way."  
  
"Don't look at me," Q said dramatically, "you voted them out. And of course there is another way to check on their safety. You could volunteer to be the next one voted off." Q watched as Worf sat stoically. "I didn't think so. In fact, I think this game just got interesting."  
  
Worf growled again and Q laughed as he turned and gestured to Data, "Come, Data. We have to prepare the next challenge."  
  
Data gave Picard a sympathetic head tilt before he winked away with Q in the familiar flash of light, leaving an empty space among the ruins.  
  
Picard looked at the group of people sitting around the dying fire. There had definitely been a shift. A slow, but unmistakable change had been wrought, from the spirit of teamwork to the fire of individual competition. It was evident in everyone's eyes. He was feeling it too.  
  
Damn Q and his infernal stunts. Picard had had enough of this relentless game, but the stakes were too high at this point to just refuse to play. Q had threatened that if they didn't play the game by his rules, he would end it and take the Enterprise as his trophy. Picard could not allow that.  
  
The game consisted of the command crew voting one member off the planet every three days. Before the vote, they had to compete in a physical competition. The winner was given immunity and couldn't be voted off. The object was to be the last person to survive on the planet. According to Q, the winner of the game would be granted a wish of his or her choosing, like some lamp-rubbing Aladdin. The losers were supposedly being sent back to the Enterprise.  
  
Troi had been the first to get voted off, at her own request. No one had argued. Picard suspected that everyone was a little uncomfortable with her empathic abilities. They gave her an unusual view of the game and she was probably the first to know that things were going to heat up. Geordi was next. Since they were trapped without the normal conveniences of Starfleet, his skills were wasted and he had no great desire to stay on the planet. He had volunteered to go as well.  
  
But now things were changing. Of the remaining crewmembers, no one else wanted to quit. They had survived for over a week on the planet with only the meager supplies that Q had given them and anything that happened to be on their person when they were whisked away. They were all hungry, tired, and bored. The only thing to keep their attention was the game and the potential rewards for winning it. Those who remained were the more competitive members of the crew, so there was bound to be conflict.  
  
* * *  
  
They had taken to sleeping underneath a slab of metal that that had fallen against a large stone column. It provided some sense of protection and blocked the fierce winds that kicked up the planet's dust after the three suns had set. Picard tried to sleep, but he tossed and turned restlessly. His muscles ached from sleeping on the hard ground and his mind was turning their predicament over and over inside his skull, polishing the thoughts to a bright sheen. He heard the snores of his crew reflecting off their metal shelter. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and got up. He decided a walk through the ruins would be the best thing to calm his restless mind.  
  
Two of the planet's nine moons were high on the horizon and allowed Picard to trace a path through the rubble left behind by the long-gone civilization. He was wrestling with conflicting sides of his personality. As captain, he knew he had a responsibility to his crew. But what could this little game hurt? Oh, there would be some bruised egos and perhaps some damaged relationships, but if Q was living up to his word, they were all no worse off then before.  
  
He did want to win. He couldn't help it. His mind had tossed around a thousand things he could ask for as a prize. Some were small and only significant to him. Others were a possible benefit to the universe as a whole. To send back the Borg, to bring about peace with all the species in the sector, there were so many possibilities it was mind-boggling. He wondered what the others were playing for.  
  
"Captain?" someone asked quietly from behind him.  
  
Picard turned, recognizing Riker's voice. The man was a dim silhouette, moving closer through the shadows. "Ah, couldn't sleep either, huh, Number One?"  
  
"No. I keep trying to figure out how to beat Q at his own game."  
  
"That would be a nice turn of events."  
  
"In the meantime, I think we need to have some sort of strategy," Riker said slowly.  
  
"Strategy?"  
  
"Well, Captain, I think we need to figure out who to vote off next." Riker's expression was unreadable in the murky light.  
  
Picard slowly nodded. He didn't like the idea of plotting against his fellow crewmen. It went against everything he believed in. "I think the best bet would be to play that by ear, Wil. I don't think we should make any decisions yet."  
  
Riker's face froze in a neutral expression. "Of course, sir. I just thought we should try to figure out how best to attack this problem."  
  
Picard smiled. Obviously, Riker was trying to maximize his chances for staying alive. "Well, we don't know for sure who will win the challenge tomorrow, anyway."  
  
Riker smiled. "Despite Q's poem, I've still got my money on Worf."  
  
"Undoubtedly, Number One. He's hard to beat."  
  
Worf had won both challenges so far. In fact, after the last challenge, which consisted of standing on a narrow post for as long as possible, he had refused to get down for over an hour after winning, saying he found it calming.  
  
"Well, goodnight, sir. I hope you get some rest." Riker turned and disappeared back into the gloomy night that was enveloping the ruins.  
  
Picard decided to make a quick loop around an abandoned building before turning in. He needed to get his mind settled before he had any chance of sleeping.  
  
* * *  
  
The first of the planet's suns had risen and the four remaining crewmembers started their morning rituals. Riker had their only phasor and had gathered several branches and kindling to restart the fire. Crusher was mixing rice and water to make their usual rice patty breakfast. The first few batches had been horrible. It had been far too long since any of them had had to make real food, but Beverly quickly got the hang of it and served as their cook.  
  
Worf had practiced his mok'bara early in the morning. Then he had headed out with a large piece of metal he had scavenged in order to try to catch one of the few rabbit-like creatures they had seen skittering back and forth between the sparse shrubs. They were all salivating over the potential of real meat after nine days of nothing but rice and water.  
  
They were all getting a taste of what it was like to survive without the technological advances they had come to rely on so heavily. Even when they had been stranded on distant planets in the past, they usually had a Starfleet emergency survival kit at the very least. Often they had a shuttle and all it's available equipment. Here they had been allowed one phasor for the group, a tin of rice, a tin of water, some cooking utensils, and anything they had in their pockets. Picard was tired, hungry, and crabby, but he was still able to see this as a learning experience for all of them.  
  
Picard turned when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. Worf soon appeared around the edge of a nearby collapsed building. Empty-handed, he trudged to his place on the metal girder next to the fire.  
  
"No rabbits?" Riker asked.  
  
"Hmmm," Worf rumbled, clearly frustrated.  
  
"Next time," Crusher said, handing him a plate with his rations.  
  
"I will not eat until I have succeeded in my hunt," Worf said, setting his chin and looking off into the distance.  
  
"Suit yourself, but it might be a long wait," Crusher said pointedly, passing Worf's rice patty to Riker.  
  
Worf glowered at her. "I do not see you doing any better."  
  
"None of us have done any better. We appreciate the effort Mr. Worf," Picard said, stepping in to smooth things over between the two. They had been butting heads the last day or so and he was worried it would escalate if both of them made it through this next voting cycle.  
  
They ate their rice in silence. None of them satisfied with the meager meal.  
  
One of luxuries they happened to have with them was a deck of cards, courtesy of Riker. After breakfast, the group sat down in a circle next to the fire and dealt a few hands of poker. The tedium of waiting for the challenges or the trek to Q's council area for the voting was exasperating.  
  
"Five card draw?" Riker asked, dealing in Data's absence. They were sitting on the ground with their backs against the girders. When no one argued, Riker expertly launched the cards in each player's direction.  
  
Picard looked at his hand - two aces, a jack, a 9 and a 3. He tossed back the 9 and 3. Picard liked poker, having played many a hand with his buddies at the Academy, but it had been a while. He looked down at the cards he had picked up. Now he had two aces, a pair of jacks, and a five. Not bad, but not particularly good.  
  
Picard scanned the group again, wondering who was going to win this next immunity challenge. He knew he had very little chance of beating Worf or Riker in a physical contest, but a challenge involving intellect -- there he had a chance.  
  
Worf opened the betting. "One pebble," he said looking around the circle.  
  
Crusher was next. "I see your pebble and add three twigs." In the lunacy of the last few days, they had decided that one pebble was worth five twigs. Not that it mattered, other than the losers had to go collect more betting material when they were out.  
  
They each tossed in the bet and it went around the circle again. Worf raised it another two twigs and Beverly threw in one pebble.  
  
Picard looked down at his hand and then up at Beverly. She couldn't hide her smile. Picard thought he could read her well enough to guess was that she wasn't bluffing. Two pair wasn't great and she seemed pretty pleased with her hand. Picard tossed his cards down.  
  
"Out again, eh Captain," Riker said with a smile.  
  
"The cards just aren't with me today, Number One. Perhaps I should ask for a new deck."  
  
Riker smiled and shrugged. "I've never been caught cheating," he said, throwing in his bet.  
  
"That is because we never permit you to deal," Worf said, his face straight, his voice deadpan. Picard marveled at how hard it was to tell when the Klingon was joking.  
  
Worf cast a suspicious eye at Crusher and then tossed the required bet into the pot along with a couple of twigs. She followed suit but didn't raise the stakes any further.  
  
Picard watched as the large Klingon studied his cards intently. Then Picard turned his attention to the other members of his crew. Beverly. To Picard, she seemed like the next one to go, really. She and Worf were probably going to be trouble and there was still a good chance that Worf would win immunity again. Perhaps he should talk to Riker. But then, that was hardly fair of him as captain. He shouldn't be plotting against one of his own crew -- the others were likely to go along with him, just because he was the captain.  
  
Riker cheerfully tossed in his contribution, and with his Cheshire cat grin firmly in place, called out, "And I raise you a pebble."  
  
Crusher tossed her cards into the ring. "I think we should count that deck of yours."  
  
Riker shrugged. "I can't help the hand I was dealt."  
  
Worf's eyes narrowed as he studied Riker.  
  
"Well, Worf," Riker said, taunting him.  
  
Picard smiled. Riker certainly had flare. He thought that he and Riker could easily make it to the end. Q had said that once it was down to two, the winner would be chosen by the rest of the command staff. Picard wasn't sure where he would stand under those conditions. He was the captain, but Riker had a more affable character and he spent time with most of the crew socially. Perhaps it was in Picard's best interests to try to get Riker kicked off next.  
  
Work looked back at his cards once more. "You are a worthy adversary, but I think you are bluffing."  
  
Riker shrugged. "Could be."  
  
"I raise you a pebble," Worf said.  
  
Riker threw in the bet without hesitation. "I raise you two more twigs."  
  
Yes, Riker would need to go if Picard was going to win. He leaned back against the girder. It all depended on who won immunity tonight. Picard did not want to see Riker in that position. As long as he didn't win immunity, Picard could find a way to get Riker voted out. With him gone, there would only be one more challenge. If it was Worf who won it, then they could vote off Beverly. Picard was confident that Worf would side with him in that case. And he thought he had a fair shot against Worf in the end too. If not, the Klingon had played the game well, and if he had to lose to someone, it might as well be to Worf.  
  
"I see your two twigs. And raise you a pebble more," Worf said.  
  
Riker shook his head, "Must have quite a hand there, Worf. Too bad for you its not as good as mine." Riker tossed in a rock, which clicked against the pile that had accumulated there.  
  
On the other hand, Picard thought, if Worf did lose the immunity challenge tonight, it might be the only chance to vote him out. Picard felt he had the best chance of beating Beverly in the final two. Worf was a threat to all of them, since he was bound to win the last challenge, so he could see a vote going against him. With Worf gone, there was no need to get rid of Beverly, and he could probably convince her to side with him instead of Riker.  
  
Picard sighed. How easy it was to get caught up in this game. How easy it was to put aside friendships and honor in the face of personal gain and pride. He knew what he wanted, but the idea of actually scheming to get it gnawed at his sense of duty. He decided he had a strategy for the final rounds, but he firmly vowed not to take any secretive actions or coerce his other officers into going along with him. He had a voting plan to the outcome he wanted, but he was going to let it happen naturally if it was to happen. If not, then he was no worse off than before -- he had to remember that.  
  
"You are bluffing!" Worf said and tossed down his cards. He had a flush.  
  
Riker smiled and slowly lowered his hand. He was holding a full house: three tens and two queens. He raked the bounty towards him with a gleam in his eye, and said, "If today's challenge pertains to poker, I think I'm in good shape."  
  
"We shall see," Worf said, in his low guttural voice.  
  
* * *  
  
The group trekked to a clearing in the rubble, towards the middle of what must have been a large city. The first two of the planet's suns had set, and the last was low, leaving the ruins bathed in a bluish twilight glow. There were large girders, composite bricks, and metal sheets everywhere. Most of the stonework around what must have been a fountain had cracked and broken apart. The winds hadn't picked up yet so there wasn't any noise and the ruins had a desolate disposition. It was hard to imagine anyone having lived there.  
  
"Alright Q. We're here. What's the next challenge?" Picard asked into the empty air.  
  
Q and Data appeared in the center of the clearing. "You don't have to shout, Picard. I can hear you."  
  
"Let's just get on with it."  
  
"As you wish," Q said with a gleam. He snapped his fingers and the ancient- looking immunity amulet that had been resting around Worf's neck, disappeared and reappeared in Q's hand. The beautiful green stone at its center flashed when it caught the light. Q would give the necklace to whoever won the challenge next. "Tonight I am going to tell you the story of this planet. I'll be illustrating for those of you who are visual learners. The object is for you to remember as much as possible about the story and this planet's history. Once the story is over, you will find that there are 10 questions hidden around the ruins here. You must find them one at a time, and answer them. If you get the correct answer, you will get a clue to the location of the next question. The first person to find and correctly answer 5 questions, wins immunity. Do you all understand the challenge?"  
  
What remained of the Enterprise crew nodded.  
  
"Very well." Q swept a hand in front of him, and the fountain area leapt to life. The ruins were replaced by gold-gilded buildings and grassy shrubs filled with flowers. The fountain bubbled and sprayed water up into the air, which was filled with the melodious sounds of some sort of animal. Aliens walked through the fountain square going about their business, oblivious to Q and the crew. They had yellow crests above their heads and were dressed in brightly colored, gold-trimmed robes.  
  
"The name of this planet is Lexip," Q began. "Lexipians were an industrious people. They mined most of their planet's natural resources, stockpiling some for their own use and selling the excess to other worlds. The planet was known for an emerald-like gemstone called mastinite. It was highly prized in this section of the universe as an ornamental accent and stone for jewelry. It was also used in the production of some of the early data crystals. Lexipians were one of the more advanced races in the area and became very cosmopolitan. They started colonies on three of their moons, Tigra, Astare, and Montohn, and interacted with many of the early warp societies. They were highly regarded for their sculpture, painting, and literature. However, they became complacent."  
  
The scene around them changed gradually. The luster of the buildings seemed to fade and some of the statues in the park showed signs of damage and graffiti. The clothing on the passing citizens was drabber and in some cases, tattered. Picard noticed that the people weren't moving separately anymore. They seemed to cling together in tight groups and turned their heads suspiciously.  
  
"As technology improved, mastinite was no longer necessary for the production of data crystals. The fortunes of the planet turned, destroying the free and gregarious society. It started slowly, with more people joining fanatical religious groups. As the citizenry became poorer and more desperate, they became factionalized. A militarized group called the Arsah steadily gained popularity. Instead of cooperating with other civilizations, they advocated stealing from them. They engaged in espionage and tricks in order to acquire technology to sell. One man, T'Kahl was particularly adept at thievery and quickly gained stature."  
  
The crew watched as a fairly short Lexipian man darted into a warehouse and suddenly they were inside as well. The room was dirty, cramped, and there were stacks of old boxes everywhere. The man they were following was standing on a crate, talking to a large group of men. They couldn't hear what he was saying, but it was obvious from the reaction of his audience that he was whipping them into a frenzy.  
  
"One day, the Arsah was unfortunate enough to discover the Barlane, a race that was highly advanced for the area. T'Kahl organized a raid on one of their ships and managed to catch them by surprise. But T'Kahl and the others had no clue how to operate the ship that they had stolen. They were also unaware that the ship had a large tachion source."  
  
Q paused. "The ship crashed on Lexip, the tachions were released, and they reacted with the mastinite stockpiled all over the planet, in a layer under the crust. The combination was highly unstable and caused a chain reaction of explosions over much of the planet."  
  
The crew watched as the people in the streets ran in the terror and the ground around them exploded. The flames leapt into the air, burning the buildings and spewing clouds of thick black soot that rose into the sky.  
  
"Few people survived. Those who weren't killed in the explosions were poisoned by the toxic clouds that lingered for years. They killed off most of the plant and animal life, and the planet quickly joined the legions of dead worlds that hold no intelligent life."  
  
Q paused, clucked his tongue and the scene before them came back to the present. "So, now that we're all experts at Lexipian history, we have a challenge to commence."  
  
Little white pieces of paper rained down on them. Picard snatched one out of the air.  
  
"These are your first clues," Q said. "Remember, the first to find and correctly answer 5 questions, wins immunity."  
  
Picard looked down. "Fountains bubble and burble the question," the card said.  
  
He hurried in the direction of the fountain and noticed that the other crewmembers must have had different clues. The four of them were all headed in different directions.  
  
Picard approached the fountain and looked for anything out of place. There was nothing obvious. He looked over what was left of the statues that had adorned the edges. Nothing. He ran his hand under the stone lip that circled the pool's edge. Then he noticed one of the jets that used to propel water into the air. He reached down and as he touched it, a hologram appeared in front of him. It was a Lexipian face, the eyes dark and deeply set into the skull that protruded upwards into the yellow crest.  
  
"Who was the leader of the military movement?" it asked in a monotone.  
  
Easy, thought Picard. "T'Kahl," he said out loud. The hologram disappeared and another piece of paper fluttered down in front of him.  
  
"The warehouse collapsed one beam at a time. There you will find the question."  
  
Picard looked around, feeling his adrenaline surge. Where would he find a warehouse? He scanned the ruins, trying to locate the next question. There was a large pile of rubble to his left. He jogged toward it, as quickly as he could, given his fatigue and lack of nutrition. There were several large beams lying in a tangle. Picard looked around, at a loss. Where would the question be? He saw Crusher moving quickly through the ruins. Worf was standing near the fountain, looking thoroughly frustrated. Riker wasn't in sight. He turned back to the beams. Three of them had fallen together, in a heap. There was one that fell in a different direction; it wasn't touching any of the others. One beam at a time, Picard thought. One beam. He rushed over to the lonely beam and ran his hand along it.  
  
Again, the Lexipian appeared in front of him. "What race did T'Kahl steal the ship from?"  
  
Another easy question. "Banare," he said without giving it too much thought.  
  
The hologram turned into Q's face. "Incorrect. Go back to the beginning," the little face taunted.  
  
How could that be wrong? Picard was stunned. He was sure that was right. Was Q cheating and rigging it so that he couldn't win? Anger, hunger, and fatigue clouded his mind. Then he remembered. It was Barlane, not Banare. How could he be so stupid? And it was an easy question too. He rushed back to the fountain. There was a white piece of paper fluttering from one of the broken stone statues. Picard snatched it. "In gardens grow questions galore."  
  
Picard looked passed the fountain to the large gardens they had seen the Lexipians walking through. They were now nothing but dusty, barren grounds. Where would the questions be? Picard rushed to the site, turning in all directions, trying to understand the clue. Questions galore? Then he noticed the woody shrubs. He reached down to the first one and the hologram appeared. "What stone fueled the Lexipian economy?"  
  
"Mastinite," Picard said, after assuring himself that that was correct. He waited. Nothing. There was no little Q face to torment him, but he didn't get another clue. He looked around, desperate. He noted that Riker was at the fountain, and he looked determined. Crusher was on her way somewhere and Worf had taken a seat on one of the warehouse beams, apparently not willing to participate in this challenge any further.  
  
Why didn't he get another clue? It didn't make sense. He held out his hands in frustration, twisting around, looking for something. "Q! Where is my clue?"  
  
"I can't help you," Q said as he materialized next to Picard. "That wouldn't be fair to the others. You have your clue."  
  
Picard spun wildly. Wait, he thought. "Questions galore." Yes, that was it. Picard reached down and touched another of the shrubs and was elated when a hologram leapt up before his eyes.  
  
"Where was the Mastinite stored?"  
  
Picard thought a minute. "Under the planet's crust."  
  
This time another clue appeared. Picard had been hoping that he would get another question in the garden. "Swinging statues ask questions."  
  
Picard looked around again. He sized up all the broken and destroyed statues in the area. Then he saw that one of them was a Lexipian, riding on some sort of large animal, but the Lexipian's torso had cracked off. It was hooked on the reins of the beast by the crest. It was hanging a few feet off the ground. It probably swung when the wind picked up. Picard ran over to it and touched the Lexipian's mouth. It moved and actually verbalized the question this time. "Name one of the moons the Lexipians colonized," it said in a flat, somewhat disturbing tone.  
  
Picard thought slowly, he didn't want to misspeak again. "Tigra," he said carefully.  
  
The familiar white paper appeared in his hand. One more clue.  
  
And suddenly he was standing back at the fountain, in a line with Worf and Crusher, completely confused.  
  
"Congratulations, Riker. I guess you're smarter than I thought," Q said begrudgingly, as he draped the immunity necklace around a beaming Riker's neck. "Now the next question is, which of the rest of you is going to be voted out? I'll see you tonight at the council for the vote."  
  
Q smiled evilly and then disappeared with the familiar flash of white light.  
  
Picard's disappointment was palpable. He could barely concentrate on anything else during their walk back to camp. If only he had answered that second question right, he could have won.  
  
* * *  
  
The hike to the council area where Q held the vote every three days was an arduous chore. They had to travel for kilometers along a treacherous riverbed and climb up onto an outcropping of rocks. The crew had left early since none of them had any desire to rush. They made the journey in silence, either lost in thought, or too tired to talk. They each had torches they carried with them, planting the long ends into the ground with each step, like walking sticks. The row of flames moved steadily towards the outcropping, a fiery procession.  
  
Picard was nervous. He had seen both Beverly and Riker talking with Worf earlier in the afternoon. He had been tempted to try to find out who Riker was going to vote for, but he didn't want Worf or Beverly to see him, and he hadn't been able to catch Riker alone. He was curious what the other crewmembers had been saying to Worf. He didn't doubt that they had strategy in mind as well. He just wondered what their strategies would be.  
  
They reached the top of the outcropping and gathered around Q's circle. There was a fire in the middle and each of them set their torches in front of it before taking a seat.  
  
"Welcome my friends," Q said as he materialized with Data. For the voting, Q always wore an old fashion earth-type safari outfit, complete with a pith helmet. He looked ridiculous, but he was enjoying himself, as always. "So, Dr. Crusher, how has everyone been getting along?" he asked, glancing at Worf significantly.  
  
"As well as can be expected," Beverly answered diplomatically.  
  
"And Worf, how are you feeling about having lost your first immunity challenge?"  
  
Worf refused to answer.  
  
Q let out a dramatic sigh. "I was expecting a bit more conversation tonight, but since everyone seems to be tongue-tied, let's get on with the voting, shall we?"  
  
One by one they went up to a voting booth and entered a name on the panel there. It was a formality really -- more ceremony for Q to revel in. Picard watched the others as they came back from voting, searching for clues in their faces. He was surprised at how nervous he was. It was just a game, he reminded himself.  
  
"Time to tally the votes. Remember, the decision is final as soon as the last vote is read. The person voted off will be immediately returned to the Enterprise."  
  
Q snapped his fingers and the panel appeared in his hand. He looked down at the votes and raised an eyebrow. He made a show of having the votes appear on his panel one at a time in a random order. He turned the panel outward so they could see. "The first vote goes to . . . Picard," he said, pausing dramatically.  
  
Jean-Luc's stomach clenched up. He hadn't been expecting that.  
  
Q looked down at the panel again, waiting for the next vote to appear. "Worf," he said with an evil wink, flashing the panel for them.  
  
Picard was relieved it wasn't him. And it was a good sign. He had voted for Worf. Either this was his vote, in which case it was neutral, or it was someone else's vote, and the worst case for him would be a tie with Worf. He actually didn't know what Q would do in the case of a tie.  
  
"Picard," Q said. The grin on his face was infuriating.  
  
Picard was shocked. He didn't think his crew would turn against him. Now at least two of his closest command officers had voted to remove him from the planet. Picard held his breath as Q looked at the last name to appear on the panel. He looked up at the crew, and slowly, an amused look lit up his face.  
  
"Thank you for playing, mon capitaine," Q said.  
  
Picard felt the air rush out of his lungs as it went dark for a split second. Then the veil dropped and he found himself standing on the bridge of the Enterprise. There was a gnawing sense of disappointment and betrayal filling the spaces in him that were achingly empty.  
  
  
  
knightshade  
  
12/16/01  
  
Author's Note: The story is complete as it is and there is no sequel. The answer to the question of who wins is buried in the story. Actually, the exact order that they will be voted off is in the story. If you missed it the first time, take another skim through it. If you still don't see it, feel free to email me and let me know, because I obviously need to make it clearer. Thanks. knightshade (dknightshade@earthlink.net) 


End file.
